“This is the new order, all right! Can you believe we have niggers

running Bear Creek? When we were kids, could you have ever imagined the sheriff, prosecuting attorney, and judge would have black faces when we got to be our parents’ ages?”

Paul has some nerve mentioning my parents in the same breath with his.

I realize I better take advantage of this moment while I can.

“Paul, did you have some dealings with my client I don’t know about?” I ask.

Paul’s voice becomes intense.

“What’s he saying, Gideon?”

If I had known I was going to have this opportunity, I would have tried to figure out how to trap him. My mind races for a way to get him to admit that he hired Class or someone else to kill Willie.

“Well, of course, he can’t very well deny once having worked for you, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about the details. I just got hired yesterday. It sounds as if you had some contact with him after old Willie was killed. Is that right?”

“Why don’t you come by the house for a drink after supper, Gideon?”

Paul asks, his voice polite.

“I’ll call Dick, and we can do a little brainstorming-unless you have plans tonight.”

I wonder if something in my tone warned him away or he simply found out what he needed to know. I can’t very well turn him down.

“What time?” I ask, checking my watch. Hell, I wish he would invite me to eat. I’m getting hungry.

“About eight,” he says.

“You know where we live now?”

I confess I don’t, and he says that he has moved into town.

“We sold Riverdale years ago.

We live in the old Yates house. You know where that is.”

“I remember.” Bear Creek’s one mansion.

What a piece of work this guy is. I’d love to ask about Mae, but I ask about Jill instead, and he tells me that she is “just wonderful” and abruptly gets off the phone. I put down the receiver without having gotten to ask how he knew I was at the Bear Creek Inn. All I can figure is that gossip travels the speed of light over here. For all I know, Betty may have called ten people since I checked in. I remind myself to be careful. If I don’t watch myself, I’ll be the one who will end up getting screwed.